


The DJ (Minis)

by SirenNightshade



Series: Turtles' Doves [4]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, Interspecies, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 04:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17196698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade
Summary: Side stories and minis for my fic, The DJ. They don't belong in the main story but I felt they deserved to get seen, so I put them here, instead. Enjoy!





	The DJ (Minis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day at a new school is always rough. Lucky for Lisa, there’s some great people attending here…

**Rating:** PG (wee bit o’ swearing)

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_Okay, girl. You can do this. New place, fresh start, no one knows you here. Deep breath. In, out. Okay. Okay… No problem. Don’t stand out, don’t draw eyes…easy peasy. Just sit back and…spy, or whatever. Yeah. Good plan.  
_

The pep talk did little to calm Lisa’s nerves, her heart thudding in her chest, but it _did_ successfully occupy her thoughts while she headed into the school, allowing her to totally miss what glances she got and make it past the threshold. 

It was a weird time to change schools, halfway through the second semester of her tenth year, just a month or so off from her sixteenth birthday. Kids were bound to question why she was changing schools _now_ , but luckily she had a story prepared for that. The only question now was how good of a liar she was – and how good the other students were at picking up on them. 

The story: her parents had gotten divorced and her father had taken the house while she’d moved with her mother to her grandparents’ home. Her last school was in New Jersey, across the border. Swapping schools was just logical at that point. 

The truth? 

Her mother had caught her cutting, the wounds still fresh enough that they stung with every brush against her sleeve. Until then, Brandy hadn’t thought Lisa’s bullying had been that bad – which was intentional on her part. She didn’t want her family knowing how much the teasing hurt, how much self-hatred she was harboring from it. 

But now Brandy knew – they all did. And her mother had done now what she would’ve done years ago, had Lisa ever been honest about her school life: she’d made Lisa swap schools. 

It wasn’t so bad. She’d only had one friend at her old school, Desiree, and the other girl had been as mousy as Lisa was, unable to stand up against the bullies. They’d already fallen out of contact; without Lisa there, Desiree was now friendless, too. 

She’d rejected Lisa’s attempts at maintaining a friendship out of spite. As much as it hurt, Lisa told herself to let it go. If Desiree wanted to be that petty, then, well…no one needed a friend like that. 

If all went well, Lisa would soon have new ones, anyway. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Her hopes weren’t very high right then. 

One by one, she attended her classes, got called up to the front – and shook her head, refusing to be put in the spotlight. Most of her teachers allowed that, but one – almost disgustingly upbeat – wouldn’t let her say ‘no’. Lisa was forced to stand at the front of the class and let the rest of the student body stare at her as she awkwardly answered questions in what was probably the weakest, mousiest voice anyone in this room had ever heard. 

To her relief, though, none of the students seemed to care. Very few of them actually paid attention to her, and afterwards she was outright ignored. That was _way_ better than getting singled out and bullied, so Lisa was fine with it. 

When lunch rolled around, Lisa quickly selected a full plate of fruits and veggies, paid, and hurried to a dark corner of the room. She’d only spoken to two kids so far today and could see neither of them here. _Great._

Starved for social interaction but far too awkward to do anything about it, she just started in on her food. For a minute or two, she was left totally alone. 

And then her quiet bubble was invaded. 

“Hi! Lisa, right?” 

She jerked her head up, only realizing then how much she’d hunched in on herself as she’d eaten. Standing nearby, holding a tray, stood a tall, bronze-skinned girl with wild blonde curls. 

She held out a hand. “I’m Jocelyn. We’re in History together.” 

History – period three. Hesitant, Lisa reached up to shake her hand, thinking back to the classroom. She hadn’t looked around much, but she thought she recalled seeing that fluffy, curly hair on the other side of the room from her desk. 

“Hi,” Lisa greeted, trying to determine where this encounter was going. In her experience, tall and pretty blondes like this one were her worst nightmare. And she couldn’t help a careful glance at the other girl’s chest, too – finding her notably _flat_. 

Great. Those girls were the worst to Lisa. 

_No, shut up,_ she told herself firmly. _They don’t know._ She _doesn’t know._ Her binder remained securely in place, hiding her shame. 

Gesturing the table, Jocelyn asked, “Mind if I sit with you?” 

Lisa couldn’t help glancing around at that question, looking to see if this was a prank of some form. It wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened. But no one else was really watching; the few that were seemed merely curious, a passing interest that swiftly diverted when a nearby student got their attention. 

“Uh, sure,” Lisa finally answered, gesturing the open bench beside her. 

“Sweet!” Jocelyn said, sitting down. “So, how’s day one treating you so far?” she asked. 

Giving a weak shrug, the brunette answered, “Normal, I guess? No one’s been mean…” 

Honestly, she couldn’t have asked for better. 

“Great,” Jocelyn approved, nodding. Then, in an aside, she leaned towards Lisa to whisper, “I’d hate to have to knock in teeth for mistreating the new girl, y’know?” 

A tentative chuckle was Lisa’s response. This ‘Jocelyn’ girl was _intense._

Then, glancing up, the darker-skinned girl suddenly waved her arm in the air, calling, “Cassie! Over here!” 

A redheaded girl strode right over, taking a seat opposite Jocelyn. “Hey,” she greeted, looking interested. 

Though Lisa felt even more awkward with a second girl at her table, Jocelyn notably _wasn’t;_ she introduced the two with, “Lisa, this is Cassandra, my bestie. Cassie, this is Lisa. It’s her first day here.” 

“Oh,” Cassie commented, smiling at Lisa. “That explains why you didn’t look familiar. Nice to meet you,” she said, offering a hand. 

For the second time in under a minute, Lisa shook hands with a complete stranger. This school was _weird_ – but in a good way, she thought. Everyone just seemed to be…nice. 

 _Seemed_  to be. 

After everything she’d been through, Lisa was seriously doubting the legitimacy of this. There was no way everyone was just plain _nice;_ someone, somehow, was setting up a trap. She knew it. Now all she had to do was not fall into it. 

Soon a third girl joined her table, then a fourth and fifth. They seemed to be friends with Jocelyn – _everyone_ seemed to be friends with her. And, Lisa saw with a measure of envy, the other girl was an absolute social butterfly. Charming, elegant, witty; it was no wonder she had so many friends. 

Worse, she kept inviting Lisa to the conversation, whatever it happened to be. By the time lunch ended, the girls dispersing, she’d been subjected to friendly smiles, winks, soft jokes, and even two hugs – one from Jocelyn, one from a girl named Kimmy. 

Her class schedule had been apprehended at one point and compared with the others’, and as such Lisa now knew which classes she had with which girl. She had a second class with Jocelyn, in particular, plus one with Cassie and three with the remaining girls. 

That left her…on edge. Would they set up something before she got there? Inform the other students? Turn the school against her? She was so tense, thinking of this, that she even avoided the bathrooms – girls were never worse than when they had another girl trapped in the bathroom, she’d learned. 

But…nothing happened. One class passed, then two and three, and soon the school day was over. Lisa had barely heard her lessons, so paranoid she’d kept focusing on the other students any time she heard _anything_ from them. Yet, for all her awareness, for all her negativity, the day passed in ease. 

No one followed her on the way home. No one hounded her. No one yelled derogatory slurs at her or made lewd comments. It was like…she’d barely been noticed at all. 

It was too good to be true. 

Day two was the same, passing in a haze of paranoia and split attention and bizarrely friendly strangers. Then day three, four, five, and suddenly the week was over. 

Lisa’s homework and grades already needed work, her mind so distressed she hadn’t even been able to complete most assignments, let alone to do it as well as normal (which, she admitted, was pretty bad). She had to get her head together or she’d end up dropping out, and she could just imagine the disappointed looks from her grandparents if that happened. 

Audrey and Donald Samson wholeheartedly believed in the power of hard work and had given her numerous talks about how she’d be able to make valedictorian if only she’d buckle down and focus on it. They’d given Sam the same talks, of course, but now that he was a graduate, Lisa was the only recipient of their “encouraging” talks left. 

If they only knew that they were just adding to her stress…. 

The teachers, at least, were being understanding and forgiving – all except one, anyway. Mrs. Lubov could go dunk her head in a toilet for all Lisa cared; the lady was a freaking devil. 

Lisa fully expected to fail Lubov’s Economics class – both because the woman was an absolute witch and because Lisa had always had difficulty with that subject anyway. 

 _I can already see the summer classes from here…_  she thought, irritated. 

Little by little, time passed. To her surprise, Lisa found herself making friends, though she managed it at about the same rate as she was losing touch with acquaintences. Par for the course, there. Still, she was elated to have even _one_  friend, and after a month of classes she could name _three_. 

Holy shit. 

Better, all three girls liked DJing, too – or, at least, understood and encouraged Lisa’s passion. That gorgeous blonde, Jocelyn, was no different, though she was steadily distancing. That was fine, Lisa thought; the other girl was _hella_  intense and Lisa always felt weird around her. 

Still, she made sure to at least say “hey” and have a chat whenever she saw the blonde. Best to keep up good spirits, she figured. 

And then the rumors started. Again. 

At first, so lost in positivity at her new school life, Lisa hadn’t noticed. But she slowly caught on to all the whispers near her, clicking in to different conversations and catching telling words: 

 _Lisa. Chest. Big._  

…F-word. 

At once, Lisa felt her confidence start to crumble all over again. Distraught, she fell into despair, wondering just how she was ever going to be able to live now. If the rumors could follow her to a new school, then it could do it again, after all. There was no escape. 

She went from walking with her back straight to hunching over everywhere for the second time. 

To her surprise, her friends backed her up. They shooed away anyone who tried to corner Lisa with queries, and to her utter shock, _they_  never asked anything. They dismissed the rumors entirely, and Lisa honestly didn’t know how to take that. 

Lexa, especially – Lisa’s newest friend and fellow DJ – was her buoy. Whenever eyes and words followed her through the halls, Lexa seemed to just appear, link arms, and walk with her. 

Lexa was half-hispanic, half-black, with rich black hair and dark eyes and skin, looking more like an Egyptian goddess than anything remotely human (to Lisa’s eyes). But while she clearly knew she was pretty, much like Lisa she didn’t bother with beauty products. 

“It’s exhausting,” she said. She sometimes had her mother put some stylish braids in her hair but that was the extent of Lexa’s efforts in “beauty”. Her style was as thrown-together, who-cares-about-fashion as Lisa’s was. 

They meshed. 

The only issue was the fact that Lexa looked gorgeous in plaid overshirts and ripped jeans, whereas Lisa looked…well…like a boy. Even beside Lexa, another tomboy, Lisa still felt overshadowed. Oh, well; at least Lexa was good at keeping Lisa distracted and amused. 

The downside? Lexa had a boyfriend. When the two of them were together – her and her beau, Caden – Lisa was immediately crushed with a sense of loneliness. 

She’d never had a boyfriend. She wanted one, desperately so, but she’d never been able to trust boys. The last time she’d gone out on a limb, he’d asked her to flash him before they’d even gone on a date. 

“Just a really quick, like–” he’d said, lifting and dropping his arms (and, she noticed, _not_  his shirt) in a rapid motion. Unable to find words to express how disgusted she’d felt, she’d just up and left him. 

Suffice to say she had very little hope in that field anymore. 

Lexa tried to “help” her, though. Lisa was subjected to numerous “well, what about him?” and “want me to go ask him?” queries. Following that was the inevitable “it’s not so hard” and “no risk, no reward” talks. 

“Boys suck,” Lisa told her eventually, annoyed. She appreciated Lexa’s concern but just couldn’t chance this. Now all she had to do was get Lexa to quit talking about freaking _sex_ around her. 

Still, Lisa was glad Lexa was around. She liked having someone beside her, someone whose stride was naturally tall so Lisa automatically lifted her shoulders to match. With Lexa’s help, it didn’t take long for the rumors to fall away again. 

It was a shock, but one Lisa appreciated more than anything. And it outlined something incredible: people at _this_  school didn’t care. It didn’t matter to the students which girls had big breasts. Still, Lisa couldn’t leave the house without her binders – especially now that the rumors had died out. 

If she showed up with significantly larger breasts one day, not only would the rumors kick right back up, but she could just imagine all the “did you get _implants?”_  comments. Yeah, no – that wasn’t happening. 

Needing someone else who knew, though, drove Lisa to eventually confess the truth to Lexa. She just really needed someone to back her up, and Lexa had proven the most trustworthy. Besides which, Lexa kept inviting Lisa to sleepovers and Lisa had to constantly decline because she couldn’t deal with the whole binder thing in someone else’s home. 

Lexa understood and said not a single negative word, a heavy relief for Lisa. 

“So, like, the rumors were true?” Lexa asked, perplexed. 

Wincing, Lisa agreed, “Uh, well…yeah…” 

Lexa was quiet for a while then, thoughtful, before checking, “So why do you hide, then?” 

Lisa gave her a dumb look. “Cause girls are the worst.” 

Blinking, baffled, Lexa demanded, “What does _that_  mean?” 

“It means…it means I’ve been…” 

“…teased?” Lexa prompted. 

“Tormented,” Lisa corrected. Looking away, she murmured, “If you knew some of the stuff they did…” She shuddered in memory. 

Solemn, Lexa settled, gaze dropping. Then, shaking herself, she declared, “Well, whatever. It’s in the past, right? New future. So let’s just forget about all that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “and work on the future. That said, I have a mix I want you to listen to. Tell me what you think.” 

Smiling a little, Lisa nodded, proceeding to offer her feedback. 

In a word, the mix had been _bad._  But then, they’d both been very new to it, and neither had good programs and equipment. They’d started off stitching music together using whatever free movie maker programs they could find. 

It’d led to a lot of hilarity as they struggled with the programs and even fought one another to make changes, clawing at the mouse and smacking on the keyboard. 

Lexa was _exactly_  the kind of friend Lisa had always needed but had never had. 

Now all she needed was a boyfriend, too. 

Hah. _Funny, Lisa,_ she chided herself. _Just cause you found a good friend doesn’t mean boys would be any good._

Oh, well. She had her music and a new bestie; what else did she need? 


End file.
